


Psychiatric Appointment

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Related, M/M, Other: See Story Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:19:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seeing Molly, the ghost, Jim questions his sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Psychiatric Appointment

## Psychiatric Appointment

by Athena

Author's website:  <http://fateordestiny.com>

I don't own them, but I did I would treat them much better than Petfly and UPN and they would be out on DVD. More is the pity.

I like to thank Mrs. Tilford for her fanastic beta reading.

Must have seen (or read transcripts) of Switchman and Waiting Room to understand story.   


* * *

Blair came home from class to find Jim asleep in front of the television; the television was off and the remote was in Jim's hand. Blair put the remote on the end table. Jim opened his eyes to the gentle touch. "Hi, Chief." 

"Wouldn't you rather join me in bed?" Blair whispered only loud enough for Jim's sensitive hearing to pick it up. 

"Sam insists you're straight and only fooling yourself by continuing your relationship with me. If this is some sentinel/guide thing, you can pack your bags now," Jim said. "I don't need your pity." Sam gave Jim an hour-long rant about how Blair belonged with her. Sam gave all these examples of times Blair was interested in her and other women at the station to try to prove to Jim that Blair was only playing him to live rent free and didn't love him. 

Blair kissed Jim's forehead. "I haven't been straight since I saw your naked body. You are so hot, so sexy. Just the thought of being with you makes me crazy with desire. Nothing compares to the way that you make me feel." 

Blair pressed his hand against Jim's smooth silky skin. Jim leaned toward Blair still standing over him. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Blair whispered into Jim's ear before starting to nibble on a tender earlobe. Jim moaned in surrender, wrapping his arms around Blair's neck causing Blair to tumble onto the couch near him. Jim pressed his lips against the younger man's mouth. Blair's mouth opened greedily in response. Blair's hands trembled as they moved over Jim's hard back trying to grab hold but only scratching the skin covering the rock-hard muscles. Jim pressed his mouth against Blair's neck and sucked lightly as Blair moaned with expectation. His whole body wanted to wrap itself around the hard body pressed against his. 

It took all of Blair's will to escape the lingering embrace and walk upstairs to their bedroom. Jim planted butterfly kisses on Blair's face before tumbling on the bed beside Blair. Blair's futon was an old memory. The second bedroom contained an office: computers, a desk, bookcases and a comfortable chair. Jim's hands fumbled with the tie in Blair's hair twisting his curly locks around his hand. Jim had seen Blair's hair with his enhanced vision, with its greasy coat of conditioner. Blair's hair felt silky to Jim's fingers if he didn't allow his senses to go on overdrive. He encouraged Blair to use a mildly fragrant shampoo and conditioner since the unscented ones weren't truly unscented. Jim nuzzled Blair's hair a moment enjoying the odor and softness against his face. "I love you so much." 

"I love you, too." Blair undressed himself and put the dirty clothes in a hamper. "Would you like to shower with me?" 

"You go ahead; we have enough hot water." 

"We could save water. I love it when you wash me." Blair bent over Jim and kissed him briefly, touching his face with his fingertips as he pulled away. After walking downstairs naked, Blair stepped into the small bathroom, turned on the water and brushed his teeth as he waited for the water to get hot. 

Jim put his arms around Blair from behind. Jim's naked body pressed against him with desire. Blair moaned as he felt Jim's cock try to pierce him from behind. "I didn't want you to feel that you have to stay with me." 

"I'll love you when you're old and gray." Blair turned the water to just hot enough that he could stand it, knowing once Jim joined him that he would need to make it cooler; Jim's sensitive skin couldn't handle water of over 40 degrees C. 

"As long I get to wash your hair." Jim could only think about being with Blair. His analytic mind turned off with the aspect of the touching the wonderful wet body standing in front of him. 

Blair felt the cold shampoo touch his scalp and Jim's wonderful fingers move through his hair unknotting the tangles caused during the day. "Did you ever wash Carolyn's hair?" 

"She didn't like me to touch her. You know talking about my ex-wife puts me out of the mood." Jim pushed the shower's nozzle over Blair's hair. "I can imagine you with long gray hair all the way down your back." 

"I should really cut it." 

"As long as it isn't as short as mine." Jim kissed Blair's shoulder. "You know that I love putting my hands through your hair but if you cut it off, I'll have to find other things to put my fingers through." Jim put liquid soap on a washcloth and moved the cloth over Blair. "Turn around." Jim put the washcloth on a hook and used his hands to wash the rest of his lover. 

"You're so bad," Blair teased. 

As Jim kissed Blair, Jim's skin was turning a little pink under the nearly unbearably hot water. "Chief, I can't imagine spending my life with anyone but you. I was so set in my ways before you moved in. I didn't let anyone inside me before. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I know that I say things like that a lot but it doesn't make it less true. I don't deserve you. I can't believe you have stayed after all the shit that I put you through." 

"I feel like I don't deserve you. You're perfect like Adonis and I'm average." 

"I'm a balding middle-aged cop and you're an angel. Since you entered my life, the world is a better place to live. You brighten the lives of everyone that you touch. I wake up at night and don't believe that I have an angel in my arms." 

"Darling, just thinking about you makes me lightheaded. I have trouble getting back to doing my research after I hear your voice. I want to drop everything and run into your arms. I wish we didn't have other obligations and never had to leave bed in the morning." Blair paused, thinking back to earlier in their conversation. "What did Sam say to you?" 

Jim put conditioner in Blair's hair. "That you would be happier with someone else." Sam didn't say herself, but that was the implication. Blair washed Jim's back, then eagerly washed Jim's body slowly enjoying every ripple. "Someone else couldn't handle your sex drive, Baby. I don't know how I keep up." Jim pushed Blair's head under the water to rinse out the conditioner. He hoped he rinsed it out well because if a small amount remained he would feel it without turning up his senses. With his sense of touch turned up he could feel the small quality of conditioner that remained to soften Blair's hair and detangle it giving it a slightly grease feel and a greasy sheen if his vision was turned up adequately. 

"I didn't have this drive before we got together. It's your fault that we do it four or more times some nights. You fill me with such desire; I can never get enough of you." Blair nuzzled Jim's neck and directed the spray over his partner's body. "I think we're perfect together." Blair turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. "We need to continue in bed. The shower is a little small for all that I want to do to you." Blair dried his feet and lower body with one towel before using another towel to dry his hair. 

"Why must you use three or four towels each time you bathe?" 

"I'll buy more towels." Blair pressed his mouth against Jim's neck hard enough to leave a mark causing Jim to murmur. "The guys at the station will let me have it." Blair grinned. "They're used to seeing you covered in passion marks." 

Jim dried himself with one of the towels that Blair had barely moistened. Jim liked that Blair's smell permeated everything in the house. How could he tell the other half of his soul that he felt that he was using him to fulfill some primitive need? These feelings weren't normal. It wasn't healthy to need someone as much as Jim needed Blair. "I need you so." Jim bit Blair's shoulder leaving his own mark behind. 

Blair put the towel that he used for his hair back on the towel rack. "I can't keep my hands off of you." Jim moved his mouth over Blair's lithe body. Blair rolled over the man in the bed allowing his cock to find its way against Jim's firm ass. Blair kissed Jim's back in small kisses part of him wanting to hurry and another part saying that it was too good to rush. His lover's body filled him with such hunger. Blair took the lube from the drawer and put some on his fingers. "I want you so much; I need to feel you around me. I wish I could lie against you forever." 

"Babe, I want you." Jim moaned as Blair's finger reached inside him teasing him. "I need you to fill me." 

"I want to fuck you into next week." 

"You have a morning class." Jim kissed Blair's nipple and fondled the other one. 

"I'll set the alarm." Blair fondled the larger man's balls with one hand as he reached with the other hand to turn on the alarm. "You're so hot." Blair kissed Jim's belly button moving his hand down Jim's nearly the hairless chest. Blair continued to fondle Jim's cock as his fingers entered his ass. 

Blair put his mouth on Jim's cock and with a flick of the tongue licked off the water and pre-cum glistering on it. He lightly chewed the tip before licking it up and down making the shaft even harder causing Jim to grunt and moan. Blair moved slowly as Jim pulled his partner's head down in urgent need. As its length filled his mouth, Blair willed his gag reflex to fail as he sucked as hard as he could on Jim's rod. Blair ordered himself to breathe through his nose as he tried to give Jim a blowjob that he wasn't likely to forget. After Jim pulled away and Blair managed to swallow, Blair wiped his mouth. 

Jim pulled Blair into a deep kiss tasting his own flavor in his lover's mouth. Blair moved his hands over Jim's ass as he kissed Jim feeling both their arousals grow. 

Blair returned to applying lube to Jim's willing ass. Jim was so much more sensitive than Blair; however, he wanted Jim to feel him move easily. Jim didn't have the problem that lube reduced sensation. Jim could feel things that Blair couldn't begin to imagine. He tried to understand all that Jim described but it was like describing color to a blind man. There weren't adequate words to describe the sensations. Blair penetrated Jim realizing that he had applied too much lube but that was too late to start over. "You feel so good." Blair moved back and forth as Jim's muscles grabbed hold of him. 

"Oh, Baby." 

Blair pumped as long as he could, wanting it to linger then kissed Jim's shoulder as collapsed against him. "That was incredible." 

"You don't miss the ladies." 

"Are you kidding? No one will ever make me feel as good as you do." Blair had stopped missing the ladies very soon after their relationship had started. Being with Jim always felt right; he needed to tell himself that if it felt right not to fight it but a little voice in his head reminded him that he was giving up the wife, the kids and the picket fence. Jim was the best thing that ever happened to him. Sam must have laid into Jim that Blair could be just as happy with a woman and he didn't have to give up his dreams of the 2.1 kids, the dog and the house with the picket fence. 

"You don't regret being with me?" 

"Not for a moment, you big lug." 

* * *

Ellison went to his desk. He needed to get treatment for his psychotic episodes, seeing the panther in the supermarket, speaking to dead people. Simon could no longer lie for him; both Jim and Blair knew there was no peyote in Blair's home remedies. Jim had saw Molly for the same reason the other man did, schizophrenic hallucinations. Blair had explained to him that hypersenses and schizophrenia went hand-in-hand. Jim knew that he had delusions and hallucinations since Peru but Blair told him it had to do with being a sentinel and not to worry about it. He couldn't trouble Blair to continue to observe him for catatonia (zone-outs) and needed to get treatment. Blair needed to get on with his life and not hold onto a useless dissertation forever. Jim felt so guilty for using Blair to keep him sane when medication would probably do the same thing. Blair needed to be more than Jim's unpaid babysitter. 

Jim left a message for Simon's secretary that he was going to the HR department and he would be back as soon as possible. Rhonda arrived as Ellison was looking over the numbers of psychiatrists that took the city's insurance. He debated if he wanted to see a doctor closer to work or to home. 

After leaving his name on six doctors' voice mails and talking to only one live person, he took his truck to Rainier and waited to see Blair during his office hours. 

"Chief, I want to see a psychiatrist," Jim said entering Blair's office. 

Blair closed the door to give them privacy after putting up a note to knock. "We talked about you getting therapy before. We agreed that working with me was far better than a pill or any therapy a psychologist could give you." 

"You know how I react to medication. We were both afraid that I would be over medicated." Jim couldn't tell Blair how bad he felt about using him to avoid treatment. Jim's catatonia might be able to be controlled by medication so Blair could live his life without watching Jim for zone outs. 

"When we see the doctor, we'll bring your medical records. I'll explain that you have hypersensitivity to several medications. As long as we have the paperwork, everything will be fine." 

"I only got voice mail, except for one receptionist that told me that she could squeeze me in two months from now. I can't wait that long." 

"With your symptoms, you would never be cleared for active duty. We could tell the doctor about your heightened senses. So how do you want to play this?" 

"Can we get through the first appointment before we decide?" 

"Jim, I know you don't like doctors." 

"I hate that Simon treats me like a child having a temper tantrum. I need treatment. I'm not quitting the force by getting help." 

"Your skills as a detective are valuable. You shouldn't throw in the towel." 

"I'm tired of having people cover for me. Banks hired you to cover my ass. I can't put you through that anymore. You have been holding onto your dissertation so you can continue to observe me. It isn't right for me to ask you to put your life on hold." 

"Hired? When do I ever see a paycheck? Now, I know you're delusional." 

"Bad word choice. I should have been kissing your feet every night and instead I treat you like shit." 

"You can make that up to me right now." Blair removed his shoes and socks and put his size 8 1/2 feet on top of the crowded desk. 

Jim picked up a foot off the desk. "What if one of your students comes in without knocking?" 

Blair laughed as Jim started to lick his toes. "We're exploring the cultural significance of soles." 

Jim put the foot down as his cell phone rang. "Ellison." 

"I'm returning your call," said the woman on the other end. "Yes, we take city insurance," 

* * *

Two of the doctors called him back. Jim took down the date for the earliest appointment. Blair came with him to the doctor. The waiting room was shared by six psychiatrists. The whole place screamed HMO. Jim took a magazine while Blair spoke to the receptionist and gave her co-payment. When they finally saw a doctor, Blair pulled a thick medical record out of his briefcase. 

"Mr. Ellison, what is your last diagnosis?" asked Dr. Shapiro, a plump man in his mid-thirties with wire-frame glasses and dark hair that needed washing. 

"Paranoid schizophrenia." 

"That wasn't your last diagnosis," Blair said. "Your last one was undifferentiated schizophrenia but it was from a hurried ER psychiatrist that didn't want to waste more than five minutes talking to him." 

Dr. Shapiro said, "What we should do is have you retested. Have your medications stabilized?" 

"I just started taking medication. After seeing a ghost, I had myself checked out at the hospital and they gave me one of their famous one-minute diagnoses. I rather see a real psychiatrist in his office." 

"Mr. Ellison, have you ever been on medication before?" 

"No." 

"May I see his medical record?" the doctor asked. The doctor thumbed through it. "You're thirty-seven years old and have been treated for mental illness since the age of ten and you have never been on medication." 

"My father thought mental illness was a dirty word. When I was ten, my school counselor suggested that I see a child psychologist, but father would have none of it. I checked myself out of the hospital when I met Blair and, instead of medication, decided to work through my problems." Most of the diagnoses of mental illness in Jim's medical record came from doctors at the ER that are there on referral because the doctor patching him up from a work-related injury couldn't deal with him. Many ER doctors wrote up in their notes that Ellison was mental ill, but they knew that Ellison wasn't going to get treatment for it. 

"I remembered when I heard his father say that he had to buckle up, pretend to be normal so the neighbors wouldn't think that William Ellison's son was a freak," Blair said remembering when William Ellison told Jim upon their reunion that he couldn't let anyone know that Jimmy was different as a child and didn't want Jimmy telling anyone that he saw the world differently than other people had. The same kind of man would be against child psychology. Blair had been to his share of child psychologists and most were quacks but he did enjoy playing mind games with them. Jim might have benefited from having someone to talk to about being different while growing up and he wouldn't have repressed so much of his youth. Just because most of Blair's talks with child psychologists had been useless, talking to one might have benefited Jim. "It took all my willpower not to punch the old man out." 

Dr. Shapiro nodded. "This isn't uncommon. Men often won't ask for treatment until it affects their ability to keep a job. Mr. Sandburg, would you like to wait outside?" 

Blair kissed Jim's forehead. "Honey, relax. Remember what I said about mantras." 

Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

"Baby, I'll be right outside." Blair waved good-bye before closing the door behind him. 

The doctor put the folder containing the medical record on his desk. "Mr. Ellison, may I call you Jim?" 

Jim relaxed into the sofa. "Jim's fine." 

"I need to ask this. How long have you known Mr. Sandburg?" 

"Four years." 

"Good," said the doctor. "I've had people walk in with the medical records who have only known the patient for less than a week. I needed to know whether Mr. Sandburg is your SO or a near stranger with control issues of his own." 

"Understood. You're just looking out for my best interest. Blair comes on rather strong. As you can see from the pile of paper, we have been through this before. I've been hospitalized for this two times." Jim wasn't given peyote in one of Blair's homemade remedies. Simon Banks said that because he could deal with the possibility that James Ellison was actually schizophrenic. When Jim went to emergency room, he had been given a one-minute diagnosis of undifferentiated schizophrenia. He finished the medicine he was given at the hospital during his brief visit and now he was here for follow-up. "When I met Blair, I was in the hospital." 

The doctor skimmed the paperwork. "Two hospitalizations and never been on medication." The doctor saw that he had medication prescribed previously but didn't followed up by seeing his own doctor. The hospitalizations were crisis intervention. Mr. Ellison didn't want be in a hospital; he needed one-on-one in an outpatient setting. He would go through two weeks in a hospital; the doctor would find the right medication and Ellison wouldn't take it once he got home and he would never make an appointment for follow-up. 

"I have drug sensitivities and nothing works." 

"I don't normally suggest this, but since you've had such bad experience with previous hospitalizations; maybe, we could try to stabilize your medication on an out-patient basis." 

Jim frowned. 

"What are your duties currently?" 

"I haven't told Captain Banks that I'm seeing you. I left a note with his secretary." 

"What made you come in?" 

"My partner had been covering for me when I had catatonic episodes." Zone outs were Blair's term for catatonic episodes. 

"How long have you had catatonic episodes?" 

"Eight years off and on. It's in the medical record." 

"What other symptoms have you been having?" 

"Blair is better at describing my symptoms than I am." Jim shrugged his shoulders. 

"Fine. See my receptionist and we'll have you scheduled for testing. Jim, you've been through this before. You know it's not an overnight thing. I'll do my best to see that it goes better for you this time. You've been diagnosed with schizophrenia twice before, and you shouldn't have to expect your friends to cover for you. There're medications now available that can make you symptom-free." 

Jim shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you." 

Dr. Shapiro said, "I'll copy the paperwork you brought with you and return them at your next appointment." 

* * *

On the drive home, Blair said, "Do you want to continue to see him?" 

"He didn't talk down to me and seemed interested in helping me." 

"If you continue treatment, you'll have to tell him." 

"I can't let people know what I am." 

"Patient-doctor confidentially is sacred." 

"Until I'm admitted into a hospital and the whole fucking hospital knows that I'm a freak." 

"I'll stay with you when you tell him. We know that your senses are verifiable. There is no reason for you to fear hospitalization. If you zone, I'll bring you back. Honey, if you don't let the doctor know what is going on with you, he can't treat you. Do you want to go through the motions or do you want to get the help you need?" 

"You told me once that hypersenses are a sign of insanity. I don't see how this is going to make things better." 

"They can treat mental illness with drugs. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You were very brave to ask for help." 

"After the military, I was. The smallest sign of mental illness and they want to kick you out with psychiatric discharge. Once you have a psychiatric discharge no one will hire you. You learn to hide your problems." 

"I should get back to the office. I have a class to teach tonight." 

"You're the one with three jobs. Aren't you glad I brought you back from the dead?" 

"It was quieter there." Blair laughed. "Jim, thanks. I'm sorry." 

"Chief, there's no need to be sorry." 

* * *

Jim dialed his father nine that night as Blair made dinner. "Dad, I have a question for you. Once you told me that the reason that you didn't let Mom see us was because she had herself committed some time after she left you." 

"She was only in the hospital six months." 

"Cut the crap." Jim wanted to say bullshit but knew better than to curse in front of his father. "Tell me that diagnosis." 

"Simple schizophrenia." 

Jim hung up the phone. 

Blair stopped cooking. "What happened?" 

"My mother suffers from schizophrenia, too. He kept us in the dark. Steve should know about this - he's engaged." 

"We'll tell him." 

"He should know before having a child." Jim set the table. "He should have the chance to make an informed decision." 

The phone rang as they were eating dinner. "Your father is calling back," Blair said as he handed the phone to Jim. 

"I know who it is. Tell him that I don't want to talk to him." 

"Mr. Ellison, Jim doesn't want to talk to you." 

"What good would it have done to upset him like that?" the elder Ellison said. 

"Give me the phone?" Jim demanded. 

Blair handed the phone to Jim. 

"Dad, if I known, I wouldn't have accepted the diagnosis of post-traumatic stress. I could have had treatment for years." 

"They wouldn't have hired a schizophrenic cop." 

"I could have gone back to school or even worked for you. So you let me suffer with catatonia and visions instead of telling me the truth. Thanks to The Americans With Disability Act of 1990, my boss needs to make reasonable accommodations." 

"Which are?" asked his dad. His voice sounded strained. 

"Possibly desk duty. After I get a diagnosis, the captain will decide how much I can do without being a danger to myself. If I don't agree with his decision, I can bring it to Grievance. Captain Banks knew two years before I did. Do you know how it feels to have your captain cover for you?" 

"Does Captain Banks know you are getting treatment?" 

"No, I was originally diagnosed during the Switchman case. Carolyn knew and also didn't tell me. Sandburg stole my medical record, so he knew. I was the only one in the dark about my condition. All three of them were protecting the poor deranged man." 

"Who told you? It wasn't Carolyn and your captain would want it buried so deep they would have to dig to China to find it." 

"Sandburg told me when we were on a case. I was looking at something and Sandburg asked where it was. He may wear glasses but he isn't that blind." Blair didn't see the ghost, Molly, when Jim and a schizophrenic man, not on medication, did. Molly didn't register in any equipment and only appeared to have existed in Jim's mind. 

"Did Blair call you crazy?" 

"No, he didn't. That's how I knew he was serious. He used words like schizophrenia, mental disorder, and correlated. Afterwards, I found my hospital medical records and learned that I had been diagnosed twice. I'm a grown man; I don't need to be protected." 

"Jimmy, I never wanted to see you hurt." 

"I would have liked a little honesty. Did Mom have enhanced senses? Sandburg said that enhanced senses and insanity go together." 

"I don't know. She claimed that she could hear things that I never heard. I thought it was a symptom of her mental illness. I think she could smell things much better than I, but my memory isn't all that good. Why ask me about your mother now?" 

"My doctor asked me my medical history. I told him that my mother had been committed and I didn't know what for and he asked me to find out." 

"I could give you her number." 

"I'm nearly forty. I haven't spoken to her since I was eight. I wouldn't know what to say to her." 

"Hello always works." 

"I can't ask her for a medical history when she has never been part of my life. Good-bye Dad." Jim looked at Blair wiping the table. 

* * *

After Ellison finished the paperwork that lay on his desk, he knocked on Captain Banks's door. "Captain, I saw a doctor yesterday." 

"Do you think he can help you?" 

"Sandburg is hopeful. Shapiro wants to do his own testing so I don't have a diagnosis, yet." 

"Go back to your regular duties." Banks couldn't handle this shit now. 

"Sir, I can't expect Sandburg to handle my schizophrenic episodes." 

Banks pushed the papers on his desk around; he muttered to himself, "I can't believe I'm ordering a schizophrenic detective to go back to work. I should be the one to have his head examined." 

"Sir," said Jim, not wanted to admit he heard every word of his captain's rant. 

Banks raised his voice to a low growl. "Get back to work. Do as much as you can do comfortably. If you take a call and you don't feel up to it, Taggert and Conner will go." 

"Thank you, Sir." After leaving Simon's office, Jim started looking through the most recent case, a teenage girl who was raped then murdered. They had to recheck the scene to see if there was anything they had missed anything. He also wanted to go down to forensics to check the evidence himself. 

Banks muttered, "I should let him go. It's a shame that he's such a good detective." 

Jim smiled, then grabbed his notes and cell phone. "We'll need to return to the crime scene." 

"Then you were cleared for duty," said Conner. 

"Banks doesn't want me to be first on the scene, but other than that I'm cleared for duty." 

"What's this about? Are your hallucinations getting worse?" Conner teased. "Are you seeing any more dead women?" 

"No." He wasn't experiencing any hallucinations at this time, but it wasn't necessary to say that. 

"Let's get to work." 

Ellison found a spot of blood and hair fragments that the forensics department had missed and detected the odor of cologne or perfume. It was too long after the crime to determine where it originated. "I'm going back to work. Let's find this scumbag." 

* * *

Dr. Shapiro looked over his notes. "I'm writing for your HR department a diagnosis of residual schizophrenia with catatonia. I know it's vague and doesn't mean very much but the less you tell human resources the better." 

"At least, it's honest," Blair said. 

"Do you mind if I ask your partner the frequency of your episodes? Patients have a tendency to minimize or exaggerate." 

"I don't mind," Jim said. 

"They vary. They're due to over stimulation. We have already mentioned that Jim has heightened senses. When he focuses too hard the episodes of catatonia occur." 

"How often?" 

"As frequently as several times a week or less than once a month." 

"Lately?" 

"Not often," Blair admitted. 

"I have to write the state to have your driver's license revoked. Will that cause you problems at work?" 

"I've totaled eight cars in my career as a police officer. I'm not allowed near the motor pool." Jim hated that he was going to be medically unable to drive. All states and Canada had access to DMV computers. It could worse. Shapiro had agreed to treat him as an outpatient and they hadn't even discussed medication, yet. He could deal with not driving. 

"Any of the accidents caused by blackouts?" asked Dr. Shapiro. 

"Reckless driving," Jim admitted. 

"He has a problem with road rage," Blair said. 

The doctor gave a sigh of relief. "I don't feel so bad taking you off the street. My receptionist has information about paratransit." 

"We live in the city. Jim can manage to walk two blocks for a bus," Blair said. 

"Jim minimizes his symptoms. Blair, how long do they last?" 

"They don't usually last more than a minute. Conner and I can talk him out of them," Blair said. 

"The last one occurred when?" the doctor asked. 

Blair started blushing. 

"I was asking when, not how it was triggered." 

"Two nights ago." 

"See my receptionist to schedule your next appointment then we'll work on finding a medication," Dr. Shapiro said. 

After they collected the information on paratransit, Blair said, "If you weren't a cop, they would have revoked your license years ago." 

"Very funny, Chief," Jim said. 

"You're a hazard, man. We don't need a headshrinker to confirm that." 

"Stop smirking and drive." Jim handed Blair the keys to the truck. "Don't patronize me. Banks still wants me onboard. IA might have other plans. When Simon hears I've lost my driver's license; he's going to have a fit." 

"What does he care? He never lets you drive anyway." 

"People treat a driver's license as a right, not a privilege. As a cop, I'm always telling people that it is a privilege; now the shoe's on the other foot." 

"Let's go camping and get our minds off this crap." 

"We'd better talk to Simon first." 

* * *

Banks offered Sandburg and Ellison seats in his office. "If he is here, you have a diagnosis and it isn't good news." 

Sandburg put his hand on Ellison's shoulder. 

"My driving privileges have been revoked. Residual schizophrenia with catatonia." 

"In English," Captain said. 

"I've had schizophrenia in the past and currently have catatonic episodes," Ellison said, "which means I freeze and will stay in the same position until I am brought out of it or I collapse. I've been found staring out into the distance for hours." 

"Unlike a seizure, Jim is aware of his environment," explained Sandburg. "I'm usually able to bring him out of it; he's more of a danger to himself than others." 

Captain Banks shuffled papers on his desk simply to keep his hands busy. "You just solved another case no one else could. Ellison, you don't make things easy." 

"I'm crazy, not stupid," the detective said. 

"No one develops schizophrenia at thirty-seven. What I am supposed to do with this?" Banks fumbled with his coffee mug. "I can't treat this like a headache." Captain Banks said as Blair tried to keep from laughing. 

Blair broke and said through the peals of laughter, "You did last time." 

"How did you get through your psychological evals? Schizophrenia normally shows up in the early twenties." 

"They marked it as post-traumatic stress and that is what I thought it was," Ellison said. "I buried seven men in Peru. Anyone would have post-traumatic stress." 

"Hallucinations can be a symptom of post-traumatic stress," Sandburg said. 

"So what do we do?" Ellison asked. 

"Are you cleared for duty?" Captain Banks asked. 

"I'm asymptomatic. There's no reason that I can't work," Ellison said. 

"You can't drive, but you are allowed to use firearms," Banks said. "That works so well for me." 

Blair smiled. IA has never Jim given a hard time. However, his crashed cars were common knowledge. 

Ellison asked, "If that's all, I was wondering if I could have Friday off?" 

"There're no pressing cases. I expect you to stay late Monday to do paperwork," Banks said. "Some ground rules first. You are never to be on the crime scene first, you're not to be around criminal activity, and you're never to be alone outside the office." 

Sandburg tried not to smile too much. Banks would break his rules before the next week was over. 

* * *

Blair took out the camping supplies early in the morning. "Grab your stuff. We'll be driving all morning." 

"You're driving: I'm sleeping. The truck's tires are bald and we can't fit our sleeping bags and backpacks in the Volvo." 

"Bring the stuff out," Blair said as he put the cooler that he filled early that morning to the back of the truck. "We can stop at the tire store on the way." 

Jim hugged Blair. "Thanks. I'm going to get a non-driver's ID on Monday. Let's get all the camping equipment." 

"You're going to make me drive the whole way." 

"You called me a hazard." 

Blair laughed. "Would you drive one way if I take it back?" 

"No. I'm going to like having you chauffeur me around." Jim went back to the loft and packed. Blair put the rest of the stuff into the truck as Jim packed his things. Blair climbed into the driver's seat. Jim threw his bag into the back and climbed in. "You know it isn't fair. We both know I never had a zone out while driving." 

"It could happen," Blair said. "Baby, did you realize that you had schizophrenia before I told you that you were seeing things I wasn't?" 

"I had episodes in Peru. I just repressed them like I did everything else. I didn't want to admit to myself that I had a problem. No one wants to believe that they're losing their mind." Jim closed his door. 

Blair pulled out of the parking space. "I thought you knew." 

"I did say that I was crazy for you." 

"You were crazy for putting up with me." Blair thought of the song, "Crazy" sung by Patsy Cline. He told his mind to turn it off. He didn't feel as calm as Jim looked. Jim was the one diagnosed with schizophrenia and put on restrictions at work. Blair knew that SO's felt as much grief about their loved ones diagnoses as the loved ones did, but his reasoning didn't make him feel that much better. 

"Same difference. I love you, Baby." 

"Dr. Shapiro will find some medicine that will work so you'll never see things that aren't there." 

"I don't care as long as I know that you're real." 

* * *

End Psychiatric Appointment by Athena: athena@fateordestiny.com

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